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Spencer Reid
Rap God Look, I was gonna go easy on you and not to hurt your feelings But I'm only going to get this one chance Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on) Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know what If that means, what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble, And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances You were just what the doctor ordered I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box? They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rapbot But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes I got a laptop in my back pocket My pen'll go off when I half-cock it Got a fat knot from that rap profit Made a living and a killing off it Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack I'm an MC still as honest But as rude and indecent as all hell syllables, killaholic (Kill 'em all with) This slickety, gibbedy, hibbedy hip hop You don't really wanna get into a pissing match with this rappidy rap Packing a Mac in the back of the Ac, pack backpack rap, yep, yackidy-yac The exact same time I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing That I'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half Only realized it was ironic I was signed to Aftermath after the fact How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a Maxipad It's actually disastrously bad For the wack while I'm masterfully constructing this masterpiece as I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box? Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got Well, to be truthful the blueprint's simply rage and youthful exuberance Everybody loves to root for a nuisance Hit the earth like an asteroid, did nothing but shoot for the moon since MC's get taken to school with this music Cause I use it as a vehicle to bust a rhyme Now I lead a new school full of students Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac N- -W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position To meet Run DMC and induct them into the motherfuckin' Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame Even though I walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame On the wall of shame You fags think it's all a game 'til I walk a flock of flames Off of planking, tell me what in the fuck are you thinking? Little gay looking boy So gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy You witnessing a massacre Like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say looking boy You get a thumbs up, pat on the back And a way to go from your label everyday looking boy Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy? I got a "hell yeah" from Dre looking boy I'mma work for everything I have Never ask nobody for shit, get outta my face looking boy Basically boy you're never gonna be capable To keep up with the same pace looking boy 'Cause I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod The way I'm racing around the track, call me Nascar, Nascar Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton, no Asgard, Asgard So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm totin' And I should not be woken I'm the walking dead, but I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating But I got your mom deep throating I'm out my ramen noodle, we have nothing in common, poodle I'm a doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil It's me, my honesty's brutal But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though For good at least once in a while So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle Enough rhymes to maybe to try and help get some people through tough times But I gotta keep a few punchlines just in case cause even you unsigned Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime I know there was a time where once I Was king of the underground, but I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine Appeal with the skin color of mine You get too big and here they come trying to, Censor you like that one line I said on "I'm Back" from the Marshall Mathers LP One where I tried to say I take seven kids from Columbine Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I've Morphed into an immortal coming through the portal You're stuck in a time warp from 2004 though And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for You're pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrows You're like normal, fuck being normal And I just bought a new Raygun from the future To just come and shoot ya like when Fabolous made Ray J mad 'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Maywhether's pad Singin' to a man while they played piano Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day "Hey, Fab, I'mma kill you" Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed, (JJ Fad) Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I'm a human What I gotta do to get it through to you I'm superhuman Innovative and I'm made of rubber So that anything you saying ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you I'm never stating, more than never demonstrating How to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating Never fading, and I know that the haters are forever waiting For the day that they can say I fell off, they'd be celebrating Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated I make elevating music, you make elevator music Oh, he's too mainstream Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it It's not hip hop, it's pop, cause I found a hella way to fuse it With rock, shock rap with Doc Throw on Lose Yourself and make 'em lose it I don't know how to make songs like that I don't know what words to use Let me know when it occurs to you While I'm ripping any one of these verses diverse as you It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you How many verses I gotta murder to, Prove that if you're half as nice at songs you can sacrifice virgins too uh! School flunkie, pill junky But look at the accolades the skills brung me Full of myself, but still hungry I bully myself cause I make me do what I put my mind to And I'm a million leagues above you, ill when I speak in tongues But it's still tongue in cheek, fuck you I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel, I'm asleep in the front seat Bumping Heavy D and the Boys, still chunky, but funky But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling Angels fight with devils, here's what they want from me They asking me to eliminate some of the women hate But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred that I had Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation And understand the discrimination But fuck it, life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then But if I can't batter the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then? Don't mistake it for Satan It's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas And take a vacation to trip a broad And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard Be a king? Think not, why be a king when you can be a God? Written by Bigram John Zayas, Dania Maria Birks, Douglas L Davis, Fatimah Shaheed, Juana Michelle Burns, Juanita A. Lee, Kim R. Nazel, Marshall B. Iii Mathers, Matthew Arthur Delgiorno, Ricky M. L. Walters, Stephen Hacker • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Shelly Bay Music, BMG Rights Management US, LLC, Missing Link Music